I had failed to notice, in my anxiety for the Pharaoh, how the two royal ladies had greeted one another; but now, at the gorgeous banquet with which our young hostess made us welcome in her palace, I saw that the Princess sat beside the Queen, and that she had commanded her torch-bearers to stand close behind her, so as to throw a flood of light upon herself and her royal guest. The two women were a strange contrast—both beautiful beyond the average: one in all the pomp and magnificence of her regal attire, and the voluptuous charm of her mature beauty; the other in something white and clinging, with no crown save that of her ardent hair, no ornament save that of her own youth.
On luxurious couches, covered with white and silver hangings, we all reclined round the table, on which were spread the most wonderful and aromatic delicacies this lavish land could produce: peacocks’ tongues and eggs of rare birds, petals of roses and lilies cooked in honey, and great crystal goblets filled with the rich wine of the soil—both red and white. All the while sweet little musicians crouched in various corners beside their tall crescent-shaped harps and sang us sweet songs while we supped, and pretty waitresses tempted us with dainty morsels.
The beautiful white panther lay at the feet of Neit-akrit, and she fed him with dates and figs, which she held for him between her teeth. The powerful creature would take the fruit from her lips as gently as a bird. Hugh and I sat opposite to her. It was impossible not to admire the beautiful girl before us, the most exquisite product of this lovely, exotic land. There was a magnetic charm about every one of her movements which recalled those of the panther beside her. After the first five minutes she had wrought hideous havoc in my dull old heart, and I was suddenly assailed with the wild temptation to make an egregious ass of myself. I was quite annoyed with Hugh that he did not seem very enthusiastic about her: he was surveying her as critically as he would have viewed a newly-unearthed mummy.
“Isn’t she lovely, Girlie?” I contrived to whisper once during the banquet.
He did not reply, but with an inward smile, which made his eyes twinkle with merriment, he quietly slipped his hand beneath his cloak and drew out a tiny box which he handed over to me. It contained the iridescent scarabæus, of which the little midnight swimmer had said that it would prove a subtle charm against Neit-akrit’s beauty.
“Don’t you want it?” I whispered again, astonished.
He shook his head, still smiling, and at that moment I looked up and saw Neit-akrit’s eyes, more blue and iridescent than the beetle’s wings, gazing across at Hugh with a strange, inquiring expression.
“What a beautiful jewel!” she said. Then, with the gesture of a spoilt child, “Wilt thou let me look at it?”
“Nay, Princess, it is no jewel,” said Hugh, hiding the box again under his mantle, “and thou must forgive if I cannot allow even thy dainty fingers to touch it. It is a charm and its subtle virtue might vanish.”
“A charm? Against what?”